Gumbo Justice

by Holli H. Castillo

  Jacob had one more stop to make. He hummed to himself on the way, double checking that he had his disk and that the digital camera had a memory card in it. It was going to be a beautiful day.

  7:00 A.M.

  Shep rushed back to the station to watch the tape, knowing he didn’t have the luxury of time. He put the tape in the combination TV/VCR in the SID office. Fortunately, no one else was around.

  The video opened with Chad Lejeune, standing outside the door of an apartment.

  “I’m outside of Ryan’s,” Chad said into the camera. He was obviously holding the recorder himself. “She just caught me banging Laurie and broke up with me. And now for your viewing pleasure.”

  He knocked on the door. Ryan opened the door with the chain on.

  “Let me in, Ryan,” Chad said. “We’re not finished yet.”

  Ryan tried to shut the door, fear on her face. Chad kicked the door before she could close it. The chain pulled. He kicked the door a second time and the frame pulled away, the door opening with a loud bang.

  Ryan jumped back and ran down the hallway. Chad caught up to her and grabbed her by the hair, smashing her head into the wall. She fell, and remained down as Chad set the camera on the mantle of the fireplace in the living room. He aimed the camera down. “I hope this will get the shot,” he said, looking toward the door of the apartment, out of the camera’s view.

  He then dragged Ryan, who was either stunned or unconscious, to the living room floor. He prodded her with his foot.

  “Wake up, bitch. Time for fun.”

  She reached for her head with a moan, and Chad climbed on top of her.

  He looked back toward the door again, and appeared to smile at someone standing there. He turned back to Ryan and tapped her face several times. “Wake up, bitch. We really need to talk. You’re just pretending you’re still out, aren’t you? God, you are so smart. Smart and beautiful. Too bad you were such a lame fuck I had to slip a couple of roofies in your wine to have any fun with you.” He started pulling her top up. She reached up and punched him in the face, surprising him. She tried to flip him off of her, but he pinned her down by putting his hand over her throat and pressing her into the floor. “So you were awake. I knew it. Maybe I should give you a few roofies now, to make this worth my while.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a foil pack. He popped a pill out of the back of it and tried to stick the pill in her mouth. Ryan bit his finger, earning a slap in the face in return.

  “Worthless cunt.” He turned toward the door again, and said, “Never mind the roofies. I don’t want her unconscious for this. I want her to always remember it.” He started lifting her shirt again, biting her neck and breasts. She fought back, screaming and clawing at his face. He laughed and slapped her again.

  “Does it hurt yet, bitch?” He pulled her shorts halfway down. He jammed his hand between her legs. “Well, does it? Answer me, bitch.” She clawed at his hands, and reached again for his face. He ignored her and pulled her underwear to her knees. “If you just admit it hurts, whore, I’ll stop.”

  “I’m on my period,” she said, struggling against him.

  He laughed. “You think blood bothers me? By the time I’m finished, you won’t even know where you’re bleeding from.”

  He put both hands around her throat, squeezing until she went limp and her eyes closed. He let go then and started laughing.

  “You’ll be awake in a few seconds,” he said, and pulled his own pants down. “See, baby, I can only get it up around you when you’re unconscious. You’re just not woman enough.” He pulled a condom out of his pocket and quickly put it on before he penetrated her. “Wouldn’t want to leave any evidence, Ms. D.A. No DNA in the ADA.” He laughed as he pumped several times, apparently ejaculating quickly. “Oh, that was so good. But I’m not finished yet.”

  Ryan started to stir again. He flipped her over and bit the back of her thigh. “Does it hurt yet?”

  “Yes,” she screamed, barely lifting her face from the carpet. “It hurts. Please stop, Chad. Please?”

  He smiled towards the doorway again. “I like it when they beg.” He looked back down at Ryan. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it rough, bitch.” He pulled his pants back up and took his belt off. He repeatedly struck her back, first with the belt and then with his fists. He continued to beat her, asking her over and over if it hurt yet.

  He then flipped her over with his foot, and used the belt to strike the front of her body. She whimpered as he hit her, shielding her face with her arms the entire time. Eventually, she lost consciousness again.

  Chad finally stood up then and spoke to the unknown person in the doorway again. “That good?” He put his belt back on, kicked her crumpled form several times, finally walking up to the camera, putting his face close to the lens.

  “I never even liked her,” he said, smiling into the camera. “Going out with her was really just a big joke.” Chad reached and turned the camera off.

  Shep hit the rewind button and rubbed his chin. He tried to think of some way to calm himself down. Nothing came to him. When the tape stopped rewinding, he put it back in the envelope and stuck the envelope in his desk drawer and locked it. He clasped his hands together behind his head, trying to think. Remain calm.

  Lejeune was talking to somebody off-camera in the video. The off-camera person appeared to be the one Lejeune was performing for. Was it the other girlfriend, or someone else?

  Shep needed to meet with Chad Lejeune. Right now. He went outside to the Vette and opened the glove box. Inside was a .9 millimeter, not police issue, the clip loaded with hollow-point bullets. He concealed the Nine at his waist, and drove off to find Chad Lejeune.

  Fifteen minutes later he was near Chad’s apartment. It was almost 8:00 a.m. He hoped Chad hadn’t left for work yet. Shep would be too limited in his options in a public place such as Chad’s office.

  He parked around the corner. No sense in being seen if something happened, which at this point was more than likely. Not that he had a plan in mind. He wanted information. If Chad was willing to tell him what he wanted to know, Chad might just get lucky enough to live for another day.

  Shep knocked on the door and got no response. He knocked again, and this time heard a muffled cry from somewhere in the apartment.

  Exigent circumstances, he decided, and tried the door. It was unlocked. The sight that greeted him when he stepped inside was more than a surprise. It was an ungodly shock.

  Chad Lejeune was naked, hanging by a rope in the center of the living room, his toes barely touching a book that was resting on top of a chair. He was standing precariously on the book, as if he could fall off and hang himself at any second. The petite brunette had her head down on the table.

  Chad’s words were slurred. “Chapetti, cut me down.”

  “Answer some questions first.” Shep walked to the sofa and sat down, putting his feet up on the coffee table.

  “Man, just get me down first, please?” Desperation reverberated in Chad’s voice.

  “What are you doing up there, anyway?” Shep looked at the chair, and then at the rope, trying to figure out the mechanics.

  “It’s a game we play.” Chad didn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed. “Would you just help me already?”

  “That’s one hell of a game, although I can’t say it looks like much fun to me.” Shep studied the set up, noticing a thicker book underneath the chair. “So you set up two books on top of each other on the chair, hang a rope around your neck, and then jump off the books, hanging while you choke your chicken. When you start to pass out, or shoot your load, or whatever comes first, I guess, you reach your feet back to the books. Is that right?”

  “That’s the game, Chapetti. Now cut me down.”

  “So what happened to this book?” Shep picked up the larger book from the floor.

  “If you just put it on top of the other book, underneath my feet, I can cut myself down.”

  “Is that a fact? So you get o
ff on choking yourself and you get off on choking women. The term is paraphilia. But enough about your deviations. I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.” Shep dropped the book back on the floor. “Why not use just one book that’s thick enough for your feet to reach?”

  “Because if it falls off, then you’re dead. This way, if one falls, you still have a chance.” His breath came out in spurts. “Please cut me down.”

  “I like it when they beg,” Shep said, narrowing his eyes at Chad. “Does that sound familiar? It’s what you said in the video, while you were beating and raping my girlfriend. So tell me Chad, does it hurt yet?”

  “Fuck,” Chad moaned.

  “Yeah, fuck about sums it up. So did you just go out with Ryan to terrorize her?”

  “I didn’t even want to go out with her,” Chad said, a wild look in his eyes. “It wasn’t even my idea.”

  “Who then, Lejeune? Who is after her?”

  Chad’s breathing came faster. “If I tell you, you’ll leave. And if I die, she dies.”

  “Lejeune, be smart. I’m a cop. I’ll let the law deal with you.”

  “Cut me down.”

  “Who?” Shep asked, standing directly next to the chair, staring up at Chad. “Tell me his goddamn name.”

  Chad told Shep the man’s name. “Now will you help me? Please?”

  “You’re kidding me,” Shep said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Look in the camcorder,” Chad said, his voice on the verge of hysteria. “The tape ran out by now, but the camera was recording while he was here. He didn’t know. He gave Laurie some bad coke. I think she’s dead. And then he pushed the book out from under me before he left. He’ll be on the tape.”

  Shep found the camcorder partially concealed on a bookshelf. He took the tape out of the recorder and then checked the VCR, just to make sure the surveillance system hadn’t caught him entering the apartment. The VCR was empty. Shep headed for the door.

  “Please!” Chad yelled. “My toes are almost asleep. I can hardly feel them. If you don’t cut me down soon, I’m going to hang myself.”

  “Isn’t that the whole point behind autoerotic asphyxiation?” Shep asked, walking back and standing in front of Chad.

  Chad’s words came in butchered rasps. “I don’t have the time to debate its finer points. Please, cut me down. Or just put the other book back so I can get myself down.”

  Shep headed for the door again.

  “Chapetti,” Chad yelled after him. “I’m going to die. You said you would help me if I gave you the name.”

  Shep snapped his fingers. “Damn, that’s right, I did say that.” He walked back one last time, his only regret that he didn’t have more time to play with Chad right now. He looked at Chad for a second and picked up the book from the floor.

  “Man, please hurry and put the book under my feet. I can’t stay like this much longer. Let the law deal with me like you said. Please, I’m begging you.”

  Shep smiled. “Just like Ryan begged. That’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? But you know what you forgot, Lejeune?” He dropped the book on the floor, the smile fading from his face. “I am the law.” He headed out of the apartment, catching a glimpse of Chad’s legs flailing in the air as he slammed the door shut behind him.

  The doctor who checked on Ryan was a middle-aged, potato-shaped balding man, with thick clumps of wiry gray hair growing out of his ears. Ryan guessed he was asked to show his credentials more than once in his career.

  “If your temperature is normal, you can go home.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he checked her stitches. “Everything looks fine.” He handed her a prescription before he left.

  A second later, Ryan’s family took his place.

  “You getting paroled?” Patrick asked.

  “If I don’t have fever,” she answered.

  “I saw Big Mike in the waiting room,” Sean said. “Looks like Shep has some competition.”

  Nurse Tammy, a tall thin blond Ryan instantly hated interrupted the conversation to take Ryan’s temperature.

  “Did you get your card?” the nurse asked, knowing Ryan couldn’t answer with the thermometer under her tongue. “Sheryl said a nice-looking young man left it at the nurse’s station earlier.” She pointed to an envelope on the hospital tray. “You want me to get that for you?” The nurse reached over and grabbed the envelope and handed it to Ryan. The short beeps of the thermometer stopped. Tammy looked at the numbers and smiled, as if she was personally responsible for Ryan’s temperature. “Your temp is 98.6, perfect.”

  Ryan stopped listening as she pulled out the contents of the envelope. She heard a sound like an animal in pain, and then realized the sound was coming from her own mouth. She was trying to say no, but it was coming out as a low pitch wail.

  She shook her head, finally closing her eyes to get the images out of her mind. Inside the envelope was a set of three pictures, all of Edie. In the first, Edie was naked, spread-eagle on the bed in a room, her hands and feet tied to the bed posts, a look of terror on her face. In the second, she was in the same position, with a plastic bag over her head, tied at her neck. The third was a close-up of her torso, bloody words carved into her chest. Does it hurt yet?

  Ryan buried her face in her hands, unable to control the explosion of sobs. In all her life she had never experienced a feeling like this, grief so strong she almost couldn’t breathe.

  Edie had been brutally tortured, just to prove some kind of sick point to Ryan. He knew how to get to her. He hadn’t succeeded killing her, so he did the next best thing.

  Ryan didn’t realize she was still howling until she felt the pinch of a needle in her arm. The sting shocked her into silence. She put her face down into her pillow and waited, hoping whatever the nurse just shot her with would make her sleep forever, or at least until her pain went away.

  And suddenly, she needed to tell them that Chad had to be the one behind all of the murders. He was taunting her, thinking she wouldn’t break her silence and explain what that phrase meant to her, how those words proved the person who hurt Edie was Chad. She couldn’t believe she had been fooled all of this time, thinking it had to be somebody else.

  She barely lifted her head and grabbed Sean’s hand. “Chad Lejeune did this,” she told him through her tears, barely controlling her sobs enough to get the words out.

  “How do you know?” Sean asked, leaning in close, squeezing her hand.

  “The question.” She almost couldn’t bring herself to say the words. “That’s what he kept asking the day I broke up with him. He wouldn’t stop hurting me until I told him yes. I’ve heard him ask me that a hundred times in my nightmares. I’ve never told anyone. No one else knows.”

  Almost like magic, the room cleared and the pictures disappeared. Ryan was relieved. She never wanted to see Edie like that again. She put her face back down in the pillow, drowsy, but unable to sleep despite the medicine the nurse had injected.

  Something still didn’t seem right. Her hell had ended. Chad was responsible. The pictures proved it. The police would get Chad and it would really be over.

  But something was still out of place. A montage of images ran through her head. Edie, tied spread eagle to the bed. Chad, standing over her in her apartment, hitting her and talking to somebody she couldn’t bring herself to look at. Durrell Wilson getting out of a black Mercedes.

  And then she remembered the cologne worn by the kidnapper. Fleur De Lis. Who wore Fleur De Lis? Not Chad. And who was off-camera in the videotape, watching as Chad tormented her? Was it the girlfriend, as she suspected? Or was it someone else?

  She could feel the medicine kicking in. Her thoughts were becoming muddled, too many ideas springing from her brain, too many images in her head to rationally focus. And then the phone rang. She thought about not answering, but was afraid to miss news about Chad.

  “Did you like the pictures?” the voice with the distortion device asked. “I captured the true Edie, don’t you think?”

>   “They’re coming after you,” Ryan said. “They know who you are. They’re going to catch you and they’re going to kill you.”

  Chad wasn’t the killer. He would never have set himself up like this. She wondered if her brothers would kill Chad when they got there, and if Chad would even realize why. Not that Chad didn’t deserve whatever he got.

  The distorted voice let out a hollow, evil laugh. “Oh, you are so wrong. And nobody is going to catch me. As a matter of fact, you’re going to come to me, right now.”

  “You’re out of your mind.” Ryan’s voice was thick, the pain medication dulling her senses. Her throat felt like it was closing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I have something here that might persuade you.”

  A second later, Edie’s throaty voice was on the phone. “Ryan, he’s crazy. He’s going to kill me. Call–”

  Ryan didn’t find out whom Edie wanted her to call. The conversation was interrupted with a noise that sounded like Edie getting slapped, and then a whimpering in the background. Ryan sat up straight in bed, listening carefully.

  “Wouldn’t it be a shame for your friend’s life to end over a whore like you?” the voice was back. “Her only crime was being stupid enough to be your friend.”

  “That’s a tape recording. I saw the pictures. Edie’s already dead.”

  “Poor Edie. She had to endure all that torture just to get your family out of the way. But I haven’t killed her yet. Here, ask her a question.”

  “Who is it?” Ryan asked. “Who has you?”

  “He said he’ll shoot me if I tell you who he is.” It was definitely Edie, and she was definitely still alive. Ryan was scared, but she couldn’t let Edie die. She would figure something out.

  The distorted voice was back. “I’m going to give you an address. I want you to go there, and wait inside for me. And don’t bring any of your police buddies. If I see a cop, Edie will experience a slow, painful death. I’ll be watching, from a safe place with your friend. When I see you’re alone, I’ll let her go.”